


Return of the Dragons

by UrLordBeat



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: But not in a good way, Gen, I'm Bad At Tagging, Post-How to Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World, The dragons return, rating may go up idk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-12 03:15:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18002762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UrLordBeat/pseuds/UrLordBeat
Summary: On the mainland of Tamriel, the dragons have been gone for centuries. Then, Alduin returned, bringing about the apocalypse and their return. Hiccup sent away the dragons of the Barbaric Archipelago until there was a day humans and dragons can live in peace. When Alduin goes to the Hidden World to claim his right as Alpha dragon, the ultimate dragon slayer will follow, and beliefs will clash between him and the dragon tamer. Who will come out on top? Will the time itself end? Will Alduin be tamed, or will he be killed?





	Return of the Dragons

The young blond Nord known as Folkvar Fenrik, or rather, better known as the Last Dragonborn, sighed softly from his seat in the meeting hall of High Hrothgar. This  was supposed to be a peace council, yet the two present parties, were arguing over the presence of Elenwen, a high ranking Thalmor. Folkvar wondered briefly what it was that brought him to this ridiculous situation between the Imperials and Stormcloaks. Right, it all started that day in Helgen, sentenced to death for a crime he didn’t commit. Then Alduin, the World-Eater, returned, destroyed the town and in the process freed him. 

Things only got crazier from there. He had left to warn the Jarl of Whiterun about the return of the dragons, and because he was the only present survivor of a dragon attack, he was sent to fend off against another one. They somehow killed it, and Folkvar absorbed its soul, christening him as Dragonborn. That moment only served as the catalyst of many more outrageous events, such as vampire attacks, cultists of the First Dragonborn hunting him down, joining the Civil War efforts, meeting the in-hiding leader of the Blades, and most important of all, being summoned to High Hrothgar by the Greybeards to be trained in the Way of the Voice.

“Perhaps this would be a good time to get the Dragonborn’s input on this matter.” Arngeir’s aged voice broke Folkvar out of his thoughts. 

Oh, they were leaving it up to him to decide if Elenwen stayed or not. He personally hated Elenwen, she was a Thalmor elitist and tried to get him killed. However, this was not about personal matters. He needed to be a fair mediator if any of this was going to work.

“By Ysmir’s beard, the nerve of those Imperial bastards, eh?” Jarl Ulfric had yet to sit, also unhappy with Elenwen’s presence. “To think that I would sit down at the same table as that… Thalmor bitch. Either she walks or I do.”

Folkvar, having joined the Stormcloak rebellion, was somewhat close to Ulfric, and really wanted to agree with him. But, if things were to stay fair and peaceful, he would have to play the neutral party.

“What’s the harm? Besides, Tullius doesn’t really want her here, either.” Folkvar replied carefully.

“Maybe so, but bringing her here is a deliberate provocation. Tullius needs to know I won’t be pushed around.” Ulfric shifted on his feet, a clear sign of agitation. 

“Let Tullius have his way on this. He’ll have to give ground later.” Folkvar sighed softly.

_ Please, for the love of Talos, just sit down so we can get this over with. _ He silently begged.

“Hmm. Feels like a mistake to me, but I’ll bow to your judgement on this.” Ulfric then turned his harsh gaze to Elenwen. “But she is to observe, nothing more. We are not negotiating with her, is that clear?”

Elenwen shot an icy glare in his direction, responding haughtily. “Ulfric, why so hostile? After all, it’s not the Thalmor that’s burning your farms and killing your sons.”

“She’s supposed to be on our side?” Legate Rikke scorned.

Elenwen had easily riled up Ulfric. “You know exactly…! No. Not this time.” The Jarl soon calmed himself down. Seems he remembered this was a place of peace.

“Now that we’re all settled, may we proceed?” Arngeir patiently asked as Ulfric finally sat down.

“I have something to say first.” Ulfric was quick to add.

“Here we go.” Legate Rikke all but groaned.

Folkvar sighed softly again. They were grown adults, in charge of armies no less,  and they were acting like children!

Ulfric continued. “The only reason I agreed to attend this council was to deal with the dragon menace. There’s nothing else to talk about, unless the Empire is finally ready to renounce its unjust claim to rule over the people of Skyrim.”

“I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist.” Legate Rikke scoffed under her breath.

“We’re here to arrange a temporary truce to allow the Dragonborn here to deal with the dragons. Nothing more. I consider even talking to the Empire a generous gesture.” Ulfric finished.

“Are you done? Did you just come here to make speeches? Or can we get down to business?” General Tullius questioned impatiently.

“Yes. Let’s get this over with.” Ulfric relented.

“Are we ready to proceed?” Arngeir looked between the two factions. “Jarl Ulfric. General Tullius. This council is unprecedented. We are gathered here at the Dragonborn’s request. I ask that you all respect the spirit of High Hrothgar, and do your best to begin the process of achieving a lasting peace in Skyrim. Who would like to open the negotiation?”

Ulfric was quick to speak. “Yes, let’s get down to it. We want control of Markarth. That’s our price for agreeing to a truce.”

“So, that’s why you’re here, Ulfric? You dare to insult the Greybeards by using this council to advance your own position?” Jarl Elisif rebutted.

“Jarl Elisif, I’ll handle this.” Tullius tried to calm things down.

“General, this is outrageous! You can’t be taking this demand seriously! I thought we were here to discuss a truce!” She ranted on.

“Elisif! I said I’d handle it. Ulfric, you can’t seriously expect us to give up Markarth at the negotiating table. You hope to gain in council what you’ve been unable to take in battle, is that it?” Tullius goaded.

“I’m sure Jarl Ulfric does not expect something for nothing.” Arngeir tried to keep the peace.

Legate Rikke scoffed. “Yes, that’d be entirely out of character.”

Arngeir continued, “What would the Empire want in return?”

“Wait, General you don’t intend to just hand over Markarth to that… Traitor!” Elisif seethed.

“This is how the Empire repays us for our loyalty?” Rikke murmured.

“Enough.” Tullius ordered, “First, let’s be clear. This council wasn’t my idea. I think it’s a waste of time. You are a traitor to the Empire, and deserve a traitor’s death. But I at least will negotiate in good faith.” He looked to Folkvar then. “Since we’re all here at your request, I’d like to hear what you think Markarth is worth.”

_ Great, another decision for me to make. _

Folkvar took a moment to think. What would be a good trade for Markarth?

“How about Riften?” He suggested after a moment.

“Hmm. The Rift could help secure our communications with Cyrodiil… and threaten Ulfric’s southern flank…” Tullius softly thought out loud, then turned to the leader of the rebellion. “You heard the man, Ulfric. We’ve made you a fair offer. Are you serious about these talks, or are you here to just posture?”

Ulfric stood once again,  displeased with the outcome. “I expected better from you, Dragonborn. I came here in good faith, and now it seems you help the Empire at every turn.”

Okay, that stung a bit. Folkvar needed to find a way to make this a little more favorable to Ulfric, without tilting the scale too much.

“As for you, General Tullius,” Ulfric continued, “I see now that Galmar was right. Talking to the Empire is just as useless as ever.” Ulfric crossed his arms, closing himself off to them. “If you think you can hold Markarth, you’re as deluded as your Emperor when he signed away our freedom to the Thalmor. Skyrim will never again bow to your false Empire!” Ulfric finished with an outburst before turning to his advisor. “Let’s go, Galmar. I should have listened to you in the first place.”

“You always were a fool, Ulfric. You’re no better at diplomacy than you are on the battlefield.” Tullius jabbed once again.

“Stop!” It was Esbern, one of the Blades, who raised his voice next. “Are you so blind to our danger that you can’t see past your petty disagreements?” He stood, stepping in front of Jarl Ulfric. “Here you sit arguing about… Nothing! While the fate of the land hangs in the balance!”

_ Thank you, Esbern, for getting us back on track. _

“Is he with you, Delphine?” Ulfric growled, “If so I advise you to tell him to watch his tongue.”

Delphine met the Jarl’s stern glare. “He _is_ with me. And I advise you both to listen to what he has to say, before you do anything rash.”

Esbern walked back to the front of the large round stone table, continuing his speech. “Don’t you understand the danger? Don’t you understand what the return of the dragons mean? Alduin has returned! The World-Eater! Even now, he devours the souls of your fallen comrades! He grows more powerful with every soldier slain in your pointless war! Can you not put aside your hatred for even one moment in the face of this mortal danger?” Esbern stepped back in front of Ulfric, looking him dead in the eyes.

Their attention was then drawn across the room when Elenwen spoke in her condescending voice. “A very pretty speech, but what does it have to do with--”

“Shut up.” Ulfric bellowed, cutting her off. He took his seat once more. “If he’s right about Alduin… We both have just as much to lose here, Tullius, remember that. Now, back to the matter at hand. Don’t hand me a mugg of sheep’s piss and call it mead. These terms are still not acceptable.”

“I’m sure you have something in mind.” Tullius conceded.

“Damn right we do.” Galmar agreed.

Ulfric then laid down his terms, “You surrender Falkreath to us. Siddgeir steps down, and Dengeir of Stuhn resumes the Jarlship.”

Tullius shook his head in exasperation. “Where do these demands stop, Ulfric? Do you expect me to surrender all of Skyrim?”

“It seems I have no choice but to let the Dragonborn decide. Although I’m starting to doubt your fairness.” Ulfric responded, looking to Folkvar. “What say you, Dragonborn?”

Now was his chance to make things right!

“I agree. The Empire should turn over Falkreath.” Folkvar spoke with confidence, looking around the room to gauge their reactions.

Ulfric smiled at the young Nord. “Spoken like a true Son of Skyrim!” Ulfric then looked across the table to General Tullius. “I suppose that’s the fairest deal we’re likely to get.”

“It seems we may have an agreement.” Arngeir announced. The Greybeard stood, addressing them both. “Jarl Ulfric. General Tullius. These are the terms currently on the table. Markarth will be handed over to Ulfric’s forces. Jarl Igmund will step down, and Thongvor Silver-Blood will become the Jarl of Markarth.

“The Stormcloaks will withdraw from the Rift, allowing Imperial troops unhindered access. Jarl Laila Law-Giver will step down, and Maven Black-Briar will become the Jarl of Riften. Falkreath will be turned over to Ulfric, and Dengeir of Stuhn will return as Jarl. You both agree to this?”

“The Sons of Skyrim will live up to their agreements. As long as the Imperials hold to theirs.” Ulfric accepted before looking across the table to Elisif. “What about you, Elisif? Are these terms to your liking? Speak up, I’m sure General Tullius is waiting to do your bidding.”

Elisif turned away her gaze. “I have nothing to say to that murderer. General, you’ve proven yourself a good friend to Skyrim. I continue to trust that you will do your utmost to safeguard our interests.”

Tullius nodded. “Thank you, Jarl Elisif. I appreciate your loyalty.” He then turned back to Ulfric. “The Empire can live with these terms, yes. For a temporary truce, until the dragon menace is dealt with. After that, Ulfric… there will be a reckoning. Count on it.”

“Come on, Galmar. We have a lot of work to do.” Ulfric stood, turning to leave.

“Jarl Vignar Gray-mane, I assume you are aware of the Dragonborn’s plan?” Arngeir asked before he, too, would leave.

“Yes. I’m ready to do my part.” He answered, before turning to Folkvar. “Just say the word, and my men will help you spring this trap.”

“But the difficulty remains -- how to lure a dragon to Dragonsreach at all?” Arngeir questioned.

“Ah. I believe I can be of help here.” Esbern spoke up once more. “I anticipated the problem. While you were arranging this meeting, I was busy in the library of Sky Haven Temple. An unguessed trove of lost lore… but the important thing is that the Blades recorded many of the names of dragons they slew. Cross-referencing this with Delphine’s map of dragon burial sites, and I believe I’ve identified one of the dragons that Alduin has raised up.”

“How does that help us?” Folkvar asked as the two parties left for them to sort this out.

“Ah, don’t you see? The names of dragons are always three Words of Power -- Shouts. By calling the dragon with the Voice, he will hear you wherever he might be.”

Folkvar gave Esbern a confused look. “That’s great and all, but why would he come when called?”

“He’s not compelled to, but dragons are prideful by nature and loath to refuse a challenge.” Esbern explained with a chuckle. “Your Voice in particular is likely to intrigue this dragon, after your victory over Alduin. I think it is very likely that he will be unable to resist investigating your call.”

Folkvar nodded, understanding. “So, what’s this dragon’s name, then?”

“Ah, indeed. I’m no master of the Voice like these worthy gentlemen, but it is written here in this scroll.” Esbern glanced to the Greybeards before pulling out a small scroll. “Od-Ah-Viing. ‘Winged Snow Hunter,’ as I read it.”

Folkvar stood, preparing to make the journey back down the mountain himself. “Thank you. Now, I have a dragon to catch.” He was almost out of the room following the Greybeards when Delphine took him by his shoulder. 

“There’s one more thing. We know about Paarthurnax.” She spoke sternly.

“You know… What?” Folkvar was taken off guard. They knew about him, his closest mentor?

“Paarthurnax. The dragon, that the Greybeards have been protecting for all these years.” Delphine growled. “He needs to die. He deserves to die. And it falls to you to kill him.”

Delphine seemed to sense Folkvar’s reluctance, as she quickly added, “Until he’s dead… well, I’m sorry, but we would dishonor our oaths as Blades if we continued to help you. Make your choice, Dragonborn. You’re either with us, or against us.”

“Why does he need to die?” Folkvar tried to wrap his head around her reasoning. Paarthurnax had been nothing but kind to him, was the leader of the Greybeards, taught mankind the Voice.

“Here’s the big picture.” Delphine started, “He helped Alduin enslave our ancestors. He may have betrayed Alduin in the end, but that makes him worse, not better. We can’t afford to give Paarthurnax the opportunity to betray us in turn, and return to his old master.”

Folkvar knew for a fact that wouldn’t happen, but also knew there was no convincing Delphine otherwise. “Look, Delphine, let’s just deal with Alduin first, okay? Then I’ll think about killing another dragon.” Folkvar gave his answer, hoping to buy himself some time to decide.

Delphine and Esbern then passed him, leaving. “Do the right thing. Paarthurnax deserves to die.” Were her parting words, and Folkvar sighed. It was time to find Alduin, and capture a dragon.

* * *

 

Folkvar made his way to Whiterun with haste, opening the doors to Dragonsreach and approached the Jarl. “Are you ready to spring the trap on the dragon?” Folkvar asked of him.

“As I promised, my men stand ready. The great chains are oiled. We wait on your word.” Vignar Gray-mane replied.

Folkvar double-checked himself. He had all his Dragonbone armor and his Dragonbone Battleaxe, he knew how to summon the dragon, he was ready.

“I’m ready. Let’s go trap a dragon.” He answered.

“My men know what to do. Make sure you do your part. I’m putting my city in your hands.” Vignar assured, before they both headed off for the Great Porch of Dragonsreach.

Folkvar walked to the edge of the balcony, looking to the skies. 

“Go ahead and call this dragon of yours. We’re ready.” Jarl Vignar encouraged.

Folkvar didn’t need to be told twice. He looked to the sky and Shouted, “ **Odahviing!** ”

For a moment it seemed it didn’t work, until they heard the beating of leathery wings and a roar. 

“Hear that?” A guard spoke right before a massive red dragon appeared, flying right over them. Folkvar narrowly jumped out of the way as the beast dive bombed, grabbing the guard in his talons and throwing him off the cliff. He circled back, and Folkvar prepared another Shout as another guard cursed. 

“Shor’s bones, here he comes!”

“Steady! Steady, now! Keep under cover until it’s down!” Vignar ordered.

“ **Joor Zah Frul!** ” Folkvar shouted, hitting Odahviing dead-on. A bright blue aura surrounded the dragon, forcing him to land on the Great Porch.

“Dovahkiin! Here I am!  **Yol Toor Shul!** ” Odahviing’s deep voice Shouted, fire spewing from his mouth in Folkvar’s direction.

He and the other guards barely dodged out of the way, retreating deeper into the Great Porch. Odahviing followed, snapping at their heels once his fire ran out.

“That’s it! Now, wait until he’s well inside!” Came Vignar’s orders.

Odahviing fell for their bait, a giant yoke falling on top of his neck and trapping him.

“Got him!” Vignar and the others cheered, as Odahviing opened and closed his mouth in an attempt to call back his Thu’um.

“ **Nid!** ” The red dragon cried, as Folkvar approached him. “ **Horvutah med kodaav.** Caught like a bear in a trap…” He lamented, then looked straight at Folkvar. “ **Zok frini grind ko grah drun viiki, Dovahkiin** .” Folkvar gave him a confused look before he continued. “Ah. I forget. You do not have the  **dovah** speech. My… eagerness to meet you in battle was my… undoing,  **Dovahkiin.** I salute your, hmm, low cunning in devising such a  **grahmindol** \-- stratagem.  **Zu’u bonaar.** You went to a great deal of trouble to but me in this… humiliating position.  **Hind siiv Alduin,** hmm? No doubt you want to know where to find Alduin?”

Folkvar nodded, crossing his arms over his chest as he gazed at Odahviing. “That’s right. Where is he hiding?”

“ **Rinik vahzah.** An apt phrase.  **Alduin bovul.** One reason I came to your call was to test your  **Thu’um** for myself. Many of us have begun to question Alduin’s leadership, whether his  **Thu’um** is truly the strongest. Among ourselves, of course.  **Mu yi meyye.** None were yet ready to defy him.”

“You were telling me where to find Alduin?” Folkvar replied impatiently, shifting his weight to one side.

“ **Unslaad krosis.** Innumerable pardons. I digress. He travelled to the Hidden World. It is a paradise for the  **Joordiiv.** He plans on increasing the size of his army,  **Dovahkiin. Mindoraan, pah ok middovahhe lahvraan til.** I surely do not need to warn you of the danger of going there.” Odahviing supplied. “ **Zu’u lost ofan hin laan…** Now that I have answered your question, you will allow me to go free?”

Folkvar smirked at the dragon and shook his head. “Not until Alduin is defeated.”

Odahviing scowled, before replying. “Ah. Well. Hmm…  **krosis.** There is one… detail about the Hidden World I neglected to mention.”

“Tell me what you know, then.” Folkvar gestured for him to continue. 

“Only this. You have the  **Thu’um** of a  **dovah,** but without the wings of one, you will never set foot in the Hidden World.” Odahviing paused, “Of course… I could fly you there. But not while imprisoned like this.”

“Fine.” Folkvar relented, “I’ll set you free if you promise to take me to the Hidden World.”

“ **Onikaan koraav gein miiraaad.** It is wise to recognize when you only have one choice. And you can trust me.  **Zu’u ni tahrodiis.** Alduin has proven himself unworthy to rule. I go my own way now. Free me, and I will carry you to the Hidden World.”

Folkvar nodded, and gestured to the guard by the chain mechanism to let Odahviing go. “Open the trap.”

“You sure about that? You want to let that dragon loose after all the trouble to catch him in there?” Was the guard’s indignant response.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Your funeral. Someone else is gonna have to help you get him back in there again.”

“Carry on, soldier. This is all part of the Dragonborn’s plan.” Jarl Vignar assured.

The Yoke-like mechanism opened and lifted off of Odahviing, allowing him to move to the edge of the balcony.

“ **Faas nu. Zini dein ruthi ahst vaal.** ” Odahviing promised as Folkvar followed him out. “ **Saraan uth --** I await your command, as promised. Are you ready to see the world as only a  **dovah** can?”

“I’m ready. Take me to the Hidden World.” Folkvar nodded, once again mentally checking he had everything.

“ **Zok brit uth!** I warn you, once you’ve flown the skies of  **Keizaal,** your envy of the  **dov** will only increase.” Odahviing lowered his head, allowing Folkvar to climb on. “ **Amativ! Mu bo kotin stinselok.”**

Odahviing took to the bright blue skies, leaving Dragonsreach behind, and headed towards the sea.


End file.
